It's Dark, It's Cold, It's Winter
by Trivea
Summary: Pitch/Jack/Pitch. Sometimes, all it takes is one simple question to send someone down a road to self-realization... or even destruction. When Jack quickly finds that his curiosity set forward events that spiraled out of control... well, one thing is for certain: the other Guardians are NOT going to be happy about this.
1. Chapter 1

It's Dark; It's Cold; It's Winter

Rise of the Guardians fanfiction

Pitch/Jack/Pitch, eventually

Disclaimers: All I own are the ticket stubs to this movie that I'm collecting (three so far). I don't own the characters, nor do I own _most_ of the ideas herein other than what is technically just my headcanon (and there is lots of headcanon in here). Haven't written fanfic in an extremely long time, so I apologize if it gets weird. M rated for later funness, all of which will be consensual, go figure. We're gonna start off with some nice in medias res, and then jump back for some explanation which will take a few chapters. Drop a line if you guys like how it's going so far.

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

"Jack? Jack, are you in there? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong, I'm fine!" He was horrified to hear that his voice cracked slightly in panic as he spoke; the voice outside his door ceased for a moment before a hand hammered on the wood that acted as the only barrier between his room and the factory outside of it. North had been very kind in providing him with his own space at the Pole, considering that he didn't really have what could be called space of his own; but what had he been thinking, coming back now?!

"Jack, mate, open up!"

_Bunny. Wonderful,_ Jack thought sarcastically as he moved over to the mirror, pulling down his collar and wincing at the bite mark that still stood out, stark and red against his frostbitten skin. A bite mark made by Pitch's teeth. "I'm okay! Just… just give me a minute!"

If only he hadn't run in here like a bat out of hell, scaring the elves and the yeti to the point that they notified the other Guardians of Jack's unusual entrance. Then he wouldn't have both Tooth _and_ Bunny demanding to know what was wrong. If only he hadn't tried to speak through his panic they wouldn't have had further reason to worry. Of course, if he hadn't been panicking in the first place, he wouldn't have run in here like a bat out of hell. No, correction, if he hadn't been panicking he wouldn't have been stupid enough to come back, he would have just stayed somewhere to calm down, cool off, hide the evidence (as it were) and just act as though nothing was wrong.

But it was. It was so very, very wrong.

_Oh, man, I need to calm down,_ Jack thought as he took a few deep breaths, still staring at his reflection. His mind raced as Bunny called out to him again, his eyes flicking wildly as he thought. _Why? Why did this start? Because I came back here- no. No, no, no, not my fault, this is _not_ my fault. Okay. Okay, uh… Pitch. This is his- no, dammit, this isn't his fault either, because I'm the one who found him- but it isn't my fault! Okay. Back. North. If I hadn't had that talk with North- no, it was before that. I had a reason that I asked him, and… Uh… Sandy. If it wasn't for those dreams- no, dammit, he doesn't control the dreams. Tooth! Tooth is the one who encouraged me to keep looking at those memories- no! No, it was before that!_

And then it struck him.

Bunnymund.

Somehow, all of this, everything that had happened to him, was absolutely all Bunnymund's fault.

* * *

"Oh, come _on_, Bunny. How bad could it possibly be?"

"I'm not having this discussion with you." Jack's lips curved in a crooked grin as the Pooka waved one hand over his shoulder, attempting to walk off. Unwilling to let it go that easily, Jack took a quick few steps forward and jumped a bit to coast on the air next to the other guardian, his staff hooked behind his neck and a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. Bunnymund cast him an annoyed look. "What?"

"Nothing, I just want you to tell me," Jack said with what he hoped was an idle, totally unsuspicious shrug. It clearly wasn't, as it just earned him another eye roll. "North thinks it's funny."

"North finds a lot of things funny, mate," the Pooka said, favoring the winter spirit with a mild glare. "Just because he thinks it's funny doesn't mean it is."

"Oh, come on," Jack said, adopting his best pleading tone and twisting himself a bit to look at Bunnymund upside-down while he continued to glide along next to him. "I'm a Guardian now! You know, you've gotta know your allies! Why do all of the other Guardians get to know and not me?"

"Just because they found out somehow doesn't mean I'm going to tell you!" The way Bunnymund's voice rose a bit was the cue that Jack took and he dropped to the ground, shrugging his shoulders and walking backwards to keep the other spirit in his sight at all times.

"All right, all right, calm down," he said with a smile, holding up one hand in hopes that it would quell the rage now being directed at him. "Just curious. You can't blame me for trying."

"I blame you for breathing."

"Harsh," Jack said, the word punctuated by a quiet laugh as he noted the faint smile that Bunnymund was trying to hide. His crooked grin reappeared as he tipped his head back a bit, somehow managing to dodge a table and an elf without looking backwards. It was the early part of September, meaning that North was only just now really getting started on Christmas preparations, Easter had a long way to go before Bunnymund even had to start worrying about it, and there weren't enough places with heavy enough snowfall to warrant Jack's full attention, as it was Spring in one hemisphere and Autumn in the other. Toothiana and Sandy had their usual gigs, of course, but the other three guardians had found themselves at the North Pole for a combination of wanting companionship and having absolutely nothing better to do. Of course, North was currently working, which meant…

…well, what better way to kill time than annoying the crap out of Bunnymund?

Humming contemplatively, Jack tilted his head to the side. "Okay, so, I got a question for you."

"Not interested."

"Oh, come on, it doesn't have anything to do with embarrassing stories of your pre-Easter childhood."

Raising an eyebrow Bunnymund stared Jack down, but after a moment relented with another eye roll and a heavy sigh. Recognizing the fact that he had won, Jack grinned a little and tipped his head back once more. "How did you… y'know, find out _everything_ about your past?"

The look Bunnymund gave him made Jack think he wouldn't answer for a moment, but upon realizing that he was serious and not pulling his leg (not that Jack knew why he would think that), he frowned a bit. "From my memories, of course."

"Right, I figured," Jack said, waving one hand quickly to dismiss that. "But I mean… when I looked at my memories that one time, right? _All_ I saw was… a few flashes of me and my family, and then when I saved my sister right before I…" He trailed off, averting his gaze for a moment before he continued as though the pause held no significance at all. "…drowned. That doesn't really tell me anything about what I was like other than I was a goofwad and a protective older brother." He smirked a bit as Bunnymund mouthed the word 'goofwad' with a disbelieving expression. Ah, if only he'd said it out loud, too; he would have laughed about that for years, more than likely. "So what does that mean, I didn't have any other significant memories?"

"No, that's not what it means at all," Bunnymund said, shaking his head. "It just means that those were the memories you needed to see at the time."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you heard what Toothiana told you. They hold the most important memories of childhood, but more than that, I think. They're used to help people remember what's important. I guess, at the time, you needed to be reminded of why Manny decided that you would be a good guardian."

"…huh," Jack muttered thoughtfully, his voice trailing off slowly as a thoughtful look crossed his face. "So, you mean, I could technically go to the Tooth Palace at any time and go see other parts of my memories, depending on what I _need_ to see?"

"That's it exactly. Why don't you go do that instead of annoying me?"

"But you love my company."

Responding to the withering look with another grin, Jack was out the nearest window in less than five seconds.

* * *

The quick rambling voice let Jack know two things - Toothiana was currently there, and she was currently extremely preoccupied.

He ducked and weaved between each little baby tooth that zipped around, gathering quarters, dropping off teeth, getting new orders, and generally trying not to run into things as his quarry came in sight. Jack had to admit that she really was pretty, even though her tooth obsession was a little… well, weird. With her blue and green plumage that shone as she zipped around a background of gold… yeah, this was definitely a nice place, and it was a shame that the constant work just made it feel so chaotic. Not to say that he was one against chaos, of course, but when it was _work_ chaos, it just wasn't for him in the slightest.

He heard the words 'incisor', 'molar', 'cusped', 'canine', as well as a bunch of numbers that were probably degrees of latitude and longitude, but he really couldn't keep up with it and that made it hard to listen. The squeaking of a baby tooth drew the faerie's attention and she turned, obviously surprised to see Jack's half-smile and slight wave from where he stood, leaning against his staff. "Jack! Hi!" she said, quickly reaching up to smooth down the feathers on the top of her head with a sudden jumpy nervousness that always seemed to come over her when he took her by surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to ask a couple of questions when you have a moment," he said with a shrug. "Didn't mean to interrupt, I can just hang out until you can take a break."

"No!" she said quickly, overriding the end of his sentence and quickly moving one hand up to cover her mouth in embarrassment. "No, no, it's okay, you aren't interrupting," she continued in a calmer tone of voice, though the last part of her sentence trailed off in an embarrassed laugh. "You… it… sorry, you just caught me by surprise, that's all. They can handle it for the time being, I've been working for about three days straight anyway."

"I really don't know how you do it," Jack said with a sigh, shaking his head. "It's because you're part hummingbird, isn't it?" he added with another half-smile, pointing at her briefly.

Grinning a little, she reached up to rub her upper arm and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess… come on, let's get out of the eye of the hurricane, it's easier to talk when we aren't in the center of the palace."

The ledge she picked was indeed much quieter, and she sat down on her knees while he let his feet dangle freely, his staff held across his lap. Adjusting her feathers much the same way as someone would a skirt, she focused her attention on Jack and took a deep breath. "There! Much better. So, what can I do for you, Jack?"

Bracing his weight on one hand, he looked out around them at the intricate wrought gold work that covered every surface. He wondered, idly, how long it would take to build something like this if a human tried to replicate… and how much it would cost. "I was talking to Bunnymund before I came here, and I kind of wanted to ask you about memories."

"Well, you've come to the right place. Is something wrong?"

The recounting of the conversation he'd had earlier didn't take terribly long, especially with him leaving out some of the finer details. When he was done, she nodded in comprehension. "You were… how old when it happened?"

"Eighteen," Jack responded, tilting his head as if silently asking why that mattered.

"Eighteen is still technically in childhood," Toothiana said, nodding slowly. "You'd lost all of your baby teeth by then, of course, but it's my job to guard every important memory." She moved one hand to gesture around; from where they were, they could just make out a huge row of compartments housing the metal tubes that held the teeth, and that was only a very, very small portion of everything. "It isn't just the good things, or the things that were happening right when you lost your teeth. It's all of the memories of youth that shapes a person into who they become when they grow up. It's amazing how many things that may seem so small in retrospect really were so important when they happened, or were so crucial in forming a person. After all, the thing that makes one person different from another is experience."

"That makes sense," Jack said with a slow nod. "So… what, can it tell what's important for you to remember at the time when you… activate it, or whatever?"

"Basically, yes. There are so many memories that it would be impossible to suddenly remember all of them at once; that would be overwhelming. So, it's just what you need to remember to help you get through hard times, or even just through a problem. When you saw your memories, you saw what made you a guardian, right?" When Jack nodded, she continued, "And you had been wondering, at the time, why the Man in the Moon had chosen you, right?" A second nod. "So, clearly, what you had done for him to choose you was the most important memory to you at that moment. I'm sure if you took a look now, you would see something completely different."

With a hum of comprehension, Jack nodded again and looked around once more. "...will you seriously not tell me what Bunny was like before he became... him?"

A sort of scandalized giggle escaped Toothiana as she looked sideways at Jack. "No, I couldn't do that!"

"Aw, why not?" he asked, putting on his best smile and making her giggle again. "Come on, how'd you find out, anyway? Did you watch his memories or something?"

"Oh, no, I can't do that," Toothiana said, raising one hand to her cheek to cover the blush that had risen there.

"Really?" Jack asked, genuinely surprised by that answer. "Why not?"

Shrugging a little, she lowered her hand as her smile turned to something smaller, but still genuine. "Well, honestly, because it isn't my business. People require privacy, after all. If I could see all of their memories without their consent, that would be invading their privacy as well as their trust. Even if I could, I wouldn't."

"But Sandy knows what people dream, and North knows, like, every bad thing that everyone's done... _ever_, right?"

Laughing a little at Jack's confused expression, Toothiana shook her head. "No, of course not. Children appear on the nice or the naughty list of their own doing. North just takes over from there. And all Sandy can ever see of anyone's dream is what appears in the dream sand, if he's even close enough to look."

"Huh..." Trailing off slowly, Jack tipped his head a bit. "...what's so private about it?"

Blinking slowly, Toothiana began blushing hotly and moved her hand back over her face. "Jack...!"

"What?" he asked, laughing a little at her reaction. "No, seriously, I don't get it. Like, memory-wise. What could possibly be so private that it would be soul-scarring for someone else to see? I mean, people see what others do all the time."

"Well, _yes_," Toothiana agreed, her face growing more red. "But that isn't the... it... it's just... the point is..." She waved her hands in front of her face before taking a deep breath to calm down, though it didn't regulate the color on her face at all. "Like... like I said, different things are important to different people. And different things shape how you grow. So... um... for instance, a... an encounter with... someone special... if it's the first time, or... there's something very... very impacting about it..."

"An encounter with someone special?" Jack echoed with a raised eyebrow. "I don't get- oh. ...oh." His voice trailed off a bit before he found himself laughing nervously, looking away quickly. "You mean- right. Uh. Yeah. I can see how... that would... yeah. Right. Okay. ...sorry."

"No, nothing to be sorry about," Tooth said with another wave of her hand. There was a silence that stretched out to a long and painful point before she broke it with a very bright, "So!" Jack jumped a little at the sudden sound, turning to face her; he was glad that he was incapable of blushing, because he would probably have been the same color that she was. "So, um, you wanted to see your memories?"

"Yes! Memories! Right, thank you," he said quickly. "I didn't... you know, want to just go _look_ for them because there are so many and it would probably take forever and... yeah." He moved his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it, still finding it hard to make eye contact with Toothiana at the moment. The only questions on his mind were those that would have been completely inappropriate to ask.

Had she had one of those encounters? Was that why she had turned so red?

Had _he_ had one of those encounters, before he had drowned?

He followed her along the rows, keeping his staff far away from the tubes of teeth to ensure that he didn't accidentally end up freezing anything. She pointed him to the right tube, told him how to remove it, and also granted him permission to come back whenever he felt the need to, assuring him that the more he learned about himself, the better off he would be. With a shy smile and a little wave, she quickly flew off to get back to work.

Jack came back several times over the period of nearly a year, just to see one or two memories at a time. He didn't feel any pressing, urgent need to find out everything; being an immortal, he knew he quite literally possessed all the time in the world and he didn't particularly want to rush through it. The things that he saw, bits and pieces of Jackson Overland's life, warmed him all over in a way he wasn't accustomed to. Watching the boy that had been himself playing with his first ball, holding his baby sister for the first time, learning how to ice skate... all of it was like a window into another life, and for some reason, seeing everything didn't fill him with a sense of loss, just further purpose. He didn't feel as though he had been cheated out of anything; his death had been a noble one and he couldn't have been happier with that.

And, though he loved to watch the bits of memories the teeth afforded him, he was positive that there was absolutely nothing that he would be desperate to get back.

Nothing, that was, until he saw a night in early Autumn beside the same lake in which he drowned... a night between Jackson Overland and his best friend, the miller's son.

* * *

Well, there's chapter one out of the way. ...damn, that was long (for me). Sorry. Though everything else will probably be just this long. There is Black Frost to come in future chapters, I promise. Working up to it. Exposition is good, and good for you! Anyway, I hope this wasn't too slow of a start and I didn't lose people. Again, drop a line if you like it! And, no, there will be no Jack/Tooth in this story, don't fret, slash fans! I just found her crush on him completely impossible to ignore.


	2. Chapter 2

It's Dark; It's Cold; It's Winter

Rise of the Guardians fanfiction

Pitch/Jack/Pitch, eventually

Disclaimers: So, to explain the title because I didn't in the last chapter, I totally ripped it off from the Sleepmakeswaves song of the same name, which is what I am using for inspiration for this fic. If you're into instrumental music, I highly suggest checking them out, as they are absolutely amazing. Anyway, I've gotten enough kind words to think that continuing on may be a good idea, so here we go. (It's also two in the morning, almost, and I don't make my best decisions at two in the morning, but hopefully this will be... not... one of them I forget where I was going with that statement.)

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

He had seen many different things in his memories in the past year, and so many of them seemed to revolve around the small lake that rested just outside his mortal home. It was a little ironic, he supposed, that he had ended up drowning in that same lake; then again, he wasn't really one to believe in coincidence anymore.

This memory started the same way that many of his other memories had. He remembered seeing the boy that Jackson (even knowing they were the same person, Jack couldn't see it that way, so he always referred to him as Jackson mentally) was now pulling through trees in previous memories. His name was-

"Come on, Nathan," Jackson laughed, looking back over his shoulder at the other male. Jack realized that this was the first time he had actually seen Nathan in a memory where Jackson was older. He was tall, his wavy black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his piercing green eyes were constantly half-lidded with a look of taxed amusement. "We have to hurry before anyone notices we're gone."

It was late, but the moon shone so brightly overhead that it didn't really matter that the sun wasn't out and neither boy held a lantern. Jack knew, instinctively, that this was from the Autumn of the year he drowned, and he realized with a small pang of melancholy that this was in the last few months of his life. He pushed that thought aside as curiosity overtook him, and closer inspection nearly made him die laughing in his own head.

The two boys were both drunk, that much was obvious. Jackson stumbled against a tree, his hand still gripping Nathan's sleeve, and the other boy swayed as his smile widened a little. "Jack," he mumbled, "you're going to break your skull open one day."

"Nah," Jackson said with a grin as he slumped against the tree fully, his head tipping back until it hit the bark with a soft thud. "That was fun, though, wasn't it?"

"Old Man Smith is going to kill us if he finds out we got into his home brew."

"I know, right?" The two of them looked at each other with broadened smiles, and Jack himself was oddly delighted. He had known for a long time, after all, that he wasn't exactly the purest being on the face of the planet, but it was still good to know that he had turned into something of a good role-model after what he_ had_ been.

Nathan's hand had moved to rest against the bark of the tree beside Jackson's head and he swayed again, letting out a soft groan. "I am never... ever... _ever_ letting you talk me into anything ever again," he said sincerely, trying and failing to use his breathing to steady him. "I seriously feel like I could fall over and die right about now."

Jackson laughed quietly, using the tree as his own support as one hand moved to his friend's shoulder, steadying him. "You promised."

"You sure this is a good idea?"

"Have I ever had a bad one?"

"Have you ever had a good one?"

"S'just mean," Jackson slurred just slightly with a lopsided grin. Leaning up, he nudged Nathan's nose with the tip of his own, his voice changing ever so slightly to a deeper register. "Come on. I saw Lark and Sam the other day. I'm curious."

"Couldn't you be curious with a girl or something?" Nathan asked as his eyes fell shut, though he leaned into the weird caress regardless of his words. He smiled a bit as he heard Jackson's scoff of annoyance, though it clearly wasn't enough for either boy to move away from each other.

"I could, but it wouldn't be the same," Jackson said with a frown. "They were both boys-"

"I'm almost positive they still are."

"And," Jackson said just a little louder, overriding the interruption, "it wouldn't be the same with a girl and... a guy as it would with two guys, right?"

Sighing quietly, it was Nathan's turn to nuzzle Jackson with the tip of his nose, but his target seemed to be his friend's cheek instead. "Bible says s'wrong."

"Don't care," Jackson said, shaking his head slowly. "Bible says s'wrong to steal, too. Did that. Just now."

Nathan opened his mouth to form another protest, but whatever he was about to say was silenced rather effectively by Jackson pressing his lips to the other male's, his arms winding around his shoulders slowly. Nathan kept his eyes closed and gripped the tree with his other hand to maintain his balance, a soft, muffled sound escaping his chest that may or may not have been a combination between a groan and a sigh. Their mouths parted enough that Jackson's tongue was visible as it slid into Nathan's mouth, earning another soft sound from the taller male as his hands left the tree to find purchase on Jackson's waist.

The next few minutes were a rush of rustled clothing, gasps, sighs, murmured apologies, quiet confirmations, and moans muffled into the caverns of each other's mouths. One of Jackson's hands wound into Nathan's shirt tight enough to pop a seam. One of Nathan's hands dug into Jackson's hip hard enough to bruise. Though clothing hadn't been actually removed, considering both had their free hands down the front of each other's pants, there was really no question at all as to what they were doing. Jackson moaned deeply as his hips jerked forward erratically, his head tipping back and giving Nathan the opportunity to lean forward and mouth at his throat.

It didn't take long at all, but on the other hand, it had felt like a small eternity. Most of the drunken haze gone from their eyes, the two boys exchanged glances, both of them looking away as nervous, uncertain smiles formed on their lips.

The memory ended the next moment and Jack found himself sitting on the ledge of the Tooth Palace, his eyes wide as he stared at the colorful diamond patterns on top of the tube in his hands. Slowly, he moved his hand up to rub his forehead and was a little disturbed to see that he was shaking slightly. Quickly, he shoved the tube back into place, grabbed his staff, and took off before Toothiana could find him and ask him what was wrong.

* * *

There was a very, very important aspect to being a Guardian, and that aspect was purity.

Jack Frost was a lot of things. He was impulsive, sarcastic, often rude, evasive, mischievous, teasing, irresponsible, unprofessional, rash, nosy, demanding... there was not a list long enough to hold all of Jack's negative qualities, but for all of that, he was not impure.

The thoughts that had entered Jack's mind since seeing that memory were anything _but_ pure.

Now, to be fair, Jack wasn't exactly naïve. He knew what sex was and he knew how it occurred, it just wasn't something he usually went out of his way to think about for many reasons. He was a Guardian, first and foremost, and he didn't really have time for the kind of relationship that would be required for such an activity. For another thing... it had always struck him as being a necessity for reproduction, something he would never have to worry about. A man and a woman would... do that thing, and then they'd have a baby, and then they were done.

Right?

That in and of itself was why he found the memory so fascinating, though he would never actually admit such a thing. They were both male. There had been no real reason for it. So why had they done it? And, for the love of all that was good and decent, why was he still thinking about it?

And if the memory playing over in his head hadn't been bad enough, it had soon evolved into the dreams.

It wasn't as though Jack had never dreamed of Pitch before. He had, several times, and the first time it had disturbed him, so much so that he had gone to Sandy to ask him about it. Over the years, Jack had managed to learn the intricate language of the sand images the little man communicated in, or as he called it, Sandskrit. (Yes, he was aware of what a horrible pun that was, but it amused both Sandy and North, so he kept the name.) He had told him that dreams were basically your mind's way of sifting through all of the information that it held, and that it was totally natural for just about anything to show up in your dreams. It didn't matter that it had been years since Pitch's defeat: he would return in dreams occasionally for Jack, just as he did for everyone else. It didn't mean anything was wrong.

That was fine, he could handle that.

What he couldn't handle were the dreams of Pitch that had started after he had witnessed the memory.

Muttering under his breath, Jack paced back and forth in his room, staff in one hand (for no particular reason) and forehead in the other. He was thankful, suddenly, for the lock on his door; the last thing that he needed was for an elf to wander in and start focusing on him with one of those unnerving, wide-eyed stares that seemed capable of going on for just about forever, silently asking him what was wrong without actually saying anything until he invariably snapped.

Five steps one way, heel, turn, five steps back, heel, turn, repeat. He could keep this up for forever, really, his mind working overtime to determine just what exactly was _wrong_ with him. The fact that he was leaving ice behind in his path as he paced was probably a good thing, since it meant that he wouldn't actively be wearing a hole in the wooden floor. Still, though, he was going to have to come to terms with this eventually, and then he was going to have to come out of his room. He couldn't just-

"Jack Frost?"

Startled, Jack dropped his hand from his forehead and stared straight forward, though the voice had come from behind him. His room was gone. More importantly, his _staff_ was gone. Before him sprawled the seemingly infinite ebony of a lair he had been to twice in his waking life and more than he could count in dreams. He turned at the sound of swiftly approaching footsteps and immediately began backing up, though he didn't take more than three steps before he found himself flat against a smooth obsidian wall. Hadn't he been in the middle of the room when he had first turned around?

Not that such a thing really mattered at the moment. It was hard to think of petty details like the world warping itself around you when you had Pitch Black staring you down with an undisguised malice, hatred, anger... and something else, something just slightly off that Jack had never seen in his gaze before. He didn't flinch away from ash-skinned hands that moved to the wall either side of his head, nor from the tall, lean frame that loomed over him, glaring him down.

In a normal situation, Jack would have fought, would have ducked under his hands to get away, _anything_ but just stood there and stared up at him. He took a slow breath, his tongue darting out to wet his upper lip, and mumbled, "Hello, Pitch," in a voice he was quite unaccustomed to using at all, much less around his enemy.

Unfazed, Pitch narrowed his eyes and leaned in slightly closer, an act that would have been purely intimidation if it wasn't for the _something else_ Jack could still see in his eyes. "And what does Jack Frost think he's doing here," he began, spitting his name as though it were a vile curse, "coming into my home after all of these years? Do you think I am so weak you can defeat me single-handedly?"

"No," Jack said in the same voice, shaking his head slowly. "That's not why I'm here."

"Then why _have_ you come?"

Slowly, Jack's hands moved from where they had pressed against the wall to Pitch's chest, small swirls of frost spreading out from his fingertips across the Nightmare King's cloak. He tipped his head back a bit to better meet the golden-gray gaze boring into him and he took a slow breath, shaking slightly on the exhale. "I thought about your offer."

"My offer," Pitch repeated dully, as though he had no idea what he was talking about, though realization crossed his face the next second. "Have you, now, Jack...?"

"Yes," the Winter spirit said with a slow nod, his eyes dropping halfway shut. "It's not so wrong of me to reconsider, is it?"

One of Pitch's hands slid down the wall so that it was braced beside Jack's waist instead, bringing the tall figure down further to better facilitate eye contact between the two of them. There was something replacing the anger in his eyes now, and Jack recognized it as confusion. "No," the Nightmare King murmured, still looking at Jack as though he had never really seen him before. "No, there is nothing wrong with that."

Jack's right hand slowly moved up Pitch's cloak, leaving thin swirls of frost behind, to move to the nape of his neck. Pitch didn't seem to mind the cold, though the invitation was taken with a soft growl. The two met in a nearly violent clash of lips, teeth, and tongues, Pitch's hand moving to Jack's waist to grip him, Jack's leg moving up around Pitch's hips to pull him closer. Pressed as he was against the taller spirit's solid weight and the wall, it was easy for Jack to move his other leg up as well, both arms winding around Pitch's shoulders for purchase.

When Pitch stepped forward, grinding against him, Jack broke the kiss in favor of letting his head fall back, a low groan escaping him. It turned into a sharp gasp as teeth found his throat, biting down hard enough to send a shock through his spine, but all it did was wrench a loud moan from him that echoed off the walls of the cavernous lair.

Pressing back into Pitch's grinding motions drew a hiss from the Nightmare King, and hearing that made Jack smirk before he leaned forward, cold breath brushing his earlobe as he spoke. "Not the wall, Pitch," he murmured softly.

The request was heeded, though how they moved from where they had been to where they ended up without becoming disentangled was completely beyond Jack's comprehension. He fell back among soft, black and red sheets, one hand coming up to fist the material beside his head and his feet bracing on the mattress, knees up and legs spread as he stared up at Pitch. They were only separate for a moment before Pitch fell upon him, hands moving up beneath his worn blue hoodie, knees pressing into the mattress and making it dip and sway under both of their weight. Jack pushed the cloak from Pitch's shoulders with a practiced ease he shouldn't have held, the material falling away and disappearing into the shadows of the room. His hoodie was ripped from him and discarded, and when sharp teeth found his chest, teasing sensitive skin, he didn't bother to hold back his cry.

The darkness swayed around them, and the frost swirled beneath them as the two of them moved together, first in a rhythm, then in a frenzy.

And then, Jack Frost woke up.

He woke up with a force that sent him shooting upwards into a sitting position, his eyes flying wide as his breath caught in his throat. Swallowing hard, he looked around his room, his chest rising and falling erratically as he felt his heart beating against his rib cage hard enough he thought it might have been trying to escape. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down, but it wasn't doing any good, and a glance downward could tell him why. Pressing his hand against the bulge between his legs, he groaned softly, raising his hand to bite the heel of it and muffle the noise. In the time since he had been having these dreams, he had learned that ignoring it sometimes just made it worse, and unlike humans, he couldn't will it away with cold; finding something cold enough to have that effect on _him_ was almost impossible.

Fumbling with the fastening of his belt, then his pants, Jack took his member in hand and bit down harder on his flesh to stifle a groan. Unable to think of anything but the dream anyway, he began stroking himself quickly, his thoughts focused on the almost-real sensations, the almost-real pleasure the dream had provided him. He didn't last long, leaning back slightly as his hips jerked to thrust into the circle of his own hand. He fell backwards again, his chest heaving once more, and moved his other hand from his mouth to examine the damage he had created this time.

He winced at the deep grooves his teeth had pushed into his flesh, but he knew they would go away easily; he hadn't bitten hard enough to bruise, at least, and explaining a bite bruise _there_ was more than he really wanted to have to deal with. He laid on his bed until he could calm down, and then he cleaned himself up quickly, his thoughts slowing down enough to actually think coherently.

The dreams still disturbed him, but honestly, it was less the content of the dreams themselves and more the fact that he wasn't repulsed in the slightest by them. Maybe repulsed by himself for _not_ being repulsed, but that was a different point entirely. What disturbed him the most was the fact that he was completely okay, it seemed, with probably the most hedonistic, impure act he could possibly commit as a Guardian, an act that he wanted to replicate in real life.

He wanted to have sex with Pitch. He didn't even know why Pitch, and he didn't know why he wanted him so badly, but he did. The dreams said as much, and thoughts of the Nightmare King were beginning to infiltrate his every waking moment.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He needed to talk to someone. Badly. For all his faults, however, Jack was not an idiot and he knew that talking to anyone about this in too specific of detail was asking for trouble. He needed to come up with a way to phrase it to raise the least possible amount of suspicion while still getting the answers that he sought.

He wanted Pitch. But he still wanted his Guardianship. What did that say about him?

Taking his staff in his hand, he carefully left his room and immediately ducked beneath a yeti, sidestepping a small line of elves as he searched for his quarry. He heard the singing behind a large closed door, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to knock.

"Hey, North. I want to talk to you. You busy?"

* * *

Nothing wrong with a little emotional trauma, right? Right. Don't worry, other stuff will be more... descriptive? Yes, descriptive when we get to the "oh god this is really happening" and not just what Jack's limited knowledge is trying to provide for him. Hope everyone's still enjoying the story! Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

It's Dark; It's Cold; It's Winter

Rise of the Guardians fanfiction

Pitch/Jack/Pitch, eventually

Disclaimers: I am sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. I've been pretty sick for the past week, and for me, trying to write while sick is just asking for trouble. No, I haven't given up on it, but I just needed a bit of time to get better. Sorry for the wait, and here we go!

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

"Hey, North. I want to talk to you. You busy?"

There was no response from the other side of the door. Jack frowned a little and shifted his weight, his knuckles hovering beside the heavy wood before he knocked again. "North?" he called, a bit more uncertainly than last time. He had been positive that the man would be in here, considering that he was going to be busy with preparations for Christmas pretty soon and he had to get everything in order. He had even heard the singing, though he was fairly positive there was another door into the room and he might have left or something. Honestly, if he _wasn't_ here, Jack didn't have the slightest idea where to go about looking for him.

_It's a sign,_ he thought to himself. _This is a sign that I really shouldn't be talking to him about this. Seriously, what would I even say? I can't mention Pitch to him or to any of the other guardians, not like this...!_

His brain had almost convinced him to turn around and walk off, be glad that North hadn't answered the door, when it swung open. The much larger male was dusting ice shavings from his hands as he looked down, first somewhere at the vicinity of Jack's knees, then up towards his face; clearly, he had been expecting an elf, not the other Winter spirit.

"Ah, Jack!" he said in that voice that always made Jack think he was glad to see him. It brought a smile to his lips in spite of himself, his head tilting to the side as he braced both hands on his crook. It was good, he thought, to be somewhere that everyone always seemed glad to run into him. "Come in, come in, I was just going to take break," North continued, waving Jack in as he turned around and headed back to his workbench.

Jack followed obediently, his eyes immediately drawn to what North had been making: a working Ferris wheel carved out of a large chunk of ice. The seats swung independently in their holders and the entire thing spun; if there had been little ice children in the seats, it would have been absolutely perfect. Sitting on the other side and studying the structure with wide eyes, he only half listened as the elder guardian summoned in an elf and got a mug of hot chocolate and cookies. Jack wasn't offended at not having any offered to him; after all, he would have either hurt himself on the drink or frozen it solid, and besides, considering that none of them strictly _needed_ to eat, the cookies went ignored on his part. There was a moment of shuffling with the elves before North finally managed to usher them out and took a deep breath.

"So, Jack," he asked, and Jack blinked a few times, looking at him in the gaps of the ice structure that stood between them. "What is it that I can do for you? It is not like you to come to my door at this time, so I know it must be something important."

Jack nearly winced at those words and the subtle reminder that North really _was_ too busy for interruptions right now. A more ignorant soul could make the claim that, considering the ice sculpture now on the table, it was clear he had time on his hands, but Jack knew better. That was what North did when he was thinking, and even though he tended to do the same thing every year, it always consisted of new and different elements. Considering how _long_ North had been doing this, it was no surprise that he needed time to come up with something that had never been done before.

"No, yeah, I know," Jack said, his eyes darting to the side evasively. "I just... it... do you promise you won't mention this to Bunny? I mean, yeah, I know, you're busy, I can go, I just didn't... I don't know who else I can talk to, and it's been a few months, and..."

Holding up a large hand, North waved it at him, though Jack couldn't help feeling embarrassed at the spark of understanding that had lit in the other male's eyes. "All right, all right. I think I may know where you are heading. But continue. I promise, not a word will be said to any of the other guardians."

Despite his refreshed embarrassment, Jack took a deep breath and nodded. "But... but really, I mean, if you're super busy I can go, this isn't the most important-"

"Jack," North interrupted with a laugh. "It is obviously important to you, and this makes it important to me. As I said, I am on break, I do not mind taking a few moments to help."

Smiling a bit uncertainly, Jack cleared his throat and refocused on the sculpture, his hand moving out to spin it a little bit. There was a soft music that played as he did so and what looked like specks of colored light flashed from deep within the ice; he smiled a little bit wider, never failing to be a bit in awe of the Santa Claus Magic no matter how many times he had seen it. His expression turned more serious as he began speaking. "I, uh... about a year ago, I was talking to Bunny, right? And he told me that the memories that Tooth holds are... you know, all of the memories of youth. And he said that I could see more of my life if I went back there." When North nodded in agreement, Jack waved a hand. "I know, I went to Tooth and she basically told me the same thing, and so I was looking at my memories and... ehm..."

North looked at him patiently, but the knowing look that continued to grow in his eyes was setting Jack on edge more than just a little bit. Jack cleared his throat again, a little rougher than before, and shifted in his seat before continuing. "So, uh, over the past year, I've been looking at them, right? Just seeing... different things, and there was one with... with this..."

Jack stopped talking as North held up a hand, sighing. "I think I know what you would tell me, Jack, and if you would prefer not to say it out loud, that is understandable." The Winter spirit nearly went slack with relief at those words, but he caught the faint smile from under the larger guardian's beard. "You have been thinking about what you saw in the memory, correct?" When Jack nodded, North did as well. "It has been on your mind much, because it is not something of this life. You would ask me if thinking such things is... bad, or unnatural, or somehow makes you a worse person, yes?"

Jack reached up to rub the back of his neck, starting a bit when North stood up. He did as well, mostly because the height difference between them was great enough that he didn't want to put more of a gap between them, and turned to face the other male as he walked around the table and put two large hands on his narrow shoulders. "Jack, listen to me," North said quietly. "Yes, it is true; this is not normally part of a Guardian's life, or the life of any immortal."

"Except Cupid," Jack muttered under his breath, hoping to alleviate some of the heavy atmosphere in the room that had formed since he came in. To his relief, North laughed, shaking his head.

"There are many things that Cupid is an exception to, but it is not... wise to think of him as an example," North said, still amused. "The point, Jack, is that such things not being a usual part of an immortal's life does not make them any less natural. You are not human, yes?"

Jack shook his head, raising one eyebrow slowly.

"But you can still feel happiness, yes? Happiness, sadness, anger, many different emotions."

"Yes," Jack agreed, drawing the word out a bit.

"There you go. You feel many different emotions, and of these emotions, love is one. This is just a natural part of love."

"Love...?" Jack mumbled under his breath, a confused frown forming on his features. Surely not. That... that couldn't _possibly_ be the reason.

Could it?

"Yes, love. There are many kinds of love, and you express love in many different kinds of ways for that reason. The love of family, the love of friends, and yes, even romantic love are all pure and beautiful things, Jack. Do not think otherwise."

"I... yeah, I guess that makes sense," Jack said, though his frown still hadn't left his face.

Laughing quietly, North shook his head. "Why do you not go flying for a while? It is good weather for it around here, and I am sure we could use a little extra snow to help the yetis get into their work."

Finally smiling, Jack nodded his head. "Yeah. I think I'll do that. Thanks, North."

"You are welcome any time, Jack."

* * *

That had been a very good idea that North had given him.

Well, a good idea in theory.

Burgess saw an early snowfall that year as Jack returned to the first place he remembered as Jack Frost, as well as the place he knew Jackson Overland to have been born. Perching on a tree near the lake, which was not frozen like it had been most every time he had seen it, Jack leaned back against the trunk and let out a heavy sigh. What was he doing here? Looking for some comfort in what probably equated as his old memories? Theoretically, he could go hang out with Jamie (it was surprising that the boy still believed in him, considering he was in junior high now), but... he didn't think that would make him feel any better, right now.

Muttering under his breath, he smacked himself repeatedly in the forehead with the crook of his staff. He had hoped talking to North would put things in perspective, but... it hadn't. He was more confused now than he had been before, if that was even possible, and his brain was providing him with a simple solution that really wasn't all that simple, when you really thought about it.

And that was why he was here, by this lake, wasn't it? Because this was the last place that he had seen Pitch so long ago. Sure, technically five years wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things, not with how long he personally had been alive, but there was just something about it that _felt_ long.

"What am I doing..." Jack muttered under his breath, the question more of a reprimand as he took a deep breath and let his eyes slide shut. Hanging his head slowly, he sat like that for a long moment before slowly looking down towards the lake, his eyes scanning around the perimeter of the shore until he found it.

A hole. There was no bed over it, not anymore, but the hole was there as if it had never been forced closed. He wondered, sometimes, what had happened to Pitch. There would always be fear, just as he had said, and he didn't doubt that. If there would always be fear, there would always be Pitch. Besides, he was an immortal just like the rest of them. He didn't think getting rid of him would be as easy as all that. Still, the question of what _had_ happened to him when his nightmares had pulled him down into the earth, and how the hole had been reopened... He had seen nightmares around very rarely, but there had been no sign of their master and for that reason there had been no cause for worry.

But did their reappearance, and the reopening of the hole into the dark caverns, mean that Pitch was getting ready to rise again?

Jack didn't know how he felt about that, and not knowing made him more than a little nervous. After all, Pitch was his enemy. He was not supposed to be uncertain about his return. It was supposed to make him angry, ready to fight, ready to beat him back... but he wasn't. It was a strange feeling, because the thought that Pitch was around didn't exactly make him happy, either, nor did it make him relieved or fearful. It was simply... something he acknowledged.

They were enemies. It wasn't supposed to work that way.

Jumping down from the tree he was in, Jack walked across the lake, freezing it as he went and listening to the ice crack off the path he was forming behind him in the warmish September water. The snow that was falling was light, just keeping the air cool enough that it was pleasant for him and probably very confusing for the townsfolk nearby. He smiled very faintly at that thought, shaking his head a little before he stopped next to the small hole that yawned open into the darkness below.

There was no one with him this time, no one to act as his voice of reason and tell him that this was probably a terrible idea and he needed to turn back right now. Taking a deep breath, Jack closed his eyes and repeated an internal mantra to himself: I'm not afraid. I just want to know.

With that, he stepped off the edge of the hole and disappeared quickly into the darkness below.

* * *

Not seeing Pitch immediately was a very welcome thing. Not that he had expected the Nightmare King to be hanging around beneath one of probably countless exits to his lair, of course; still, the thought that he could have run into Pitch before he was fully ready to had crossed his mind and then stuck there to turn into a big enough worry that he felt relief in seeing he was just being paranoid. Not particularly wanting to get lost, he placed the end of his staff next to him and, as quietly and carefully as he could, let it drag alongside him to leave a thin, clear line of ice that would be simple enough to follow and wouldn't melt without his making it do so.

Finding the huge central room that housed the black globe and had once contained both the teeth and each little baby tooth in cages was simple enough, but it looked so much more cavernous and empty with neither golden tubes nor cages everywhere. Dreary, that was a good word for it. Looking around the place just made him depressed and he didn't know why but it also triggered something of a twinge of sympathy for the Nightmare King. He dismissed that feeling the next moment. After all, Pitch probably had his lair this way because that was how he liked it. There was no sense in feeling badly for him, since Jack doubted it even crossed Pitch's mind to live in a place that _wasn't_ dark and oppressive.

Just like him, actually.

He was on edge enough that he could almost hear the shadows moving behind him, and for that, he didn't jump when he heard the voice.

"Jack Frost, is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Jack turned around, but he didn't back up like he had in his dreams. He kept his hands on his staff and instead leaned against it, tipping his head. "Hey, Pitch. I see you're up and active."

"No thanks to you," Pitch said slowly, raising one eyebrow at the Winter spirit's manner and clearly treating it with more suspicion than reception. "What brings you down here? The desire for an epic battle, the thought you may be able to vanquish me once and for all...?" He trailed off slowly, folding his hands behind his back as he started walking slowly around Jack in a very wide circle, so wide it took a moment for Jack to realize that he _was_ circling him. _Like a shark scenting blood in the water,_ he thought to himself as he moved to keep Pitch in his gaze at all times.

"No," Jack said with a shrug. "I just happened to notice that the hole was open and I came to investigate. You know me, I can't leave anything alone."

"That's true enough," Pitch said without amusement, though his tone did suggest that he agreed. The lack of aggression the Nightmare King was showing was a bit confusing, and for now, Jack pushed aside his own problems to frown a little at him.

"Not gonna attack me?" he asked slowly. "I mean, I thought you had this whole... Destroy the Guardians thing going on, and considering that I am one now, shouldn't you be after my blood?"

"Oh, Jack, don't be stupid," Pitch said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not an idiot. I have barely enough power to do my work with my fearlings, I am not going to attempt to take on the Guardians without a good deal more preparation than I had last time, and _that_ took me from the Dark Ages to five years ago to prepare. No, you can have your little... holidays, and snow flurries, and whatever else it is you do."

Jack frowned a little. "...wait, you're _telling_ me that you don't have any power?"

"Didn't I just tell you not to be stupid?" Pitch asked with a raised eyebrow. "You will find out anyway, and I'm not so full of bravado that I think I can bluff, even with someone like you. But don't think that I believe that this is the only reason that you've come. You would not make this trip just to see how I'm doing, or even with the intention of trying to discover my plans. So what is it that you want, Jack Frost? Simply because I have all the time in the world does not mean that I possess any more patience than I used to."

Snorting softly, Jack rolled his eyes and fought the urge to shake his head. Yeah, that much was painfully obvious. "I wanted to ask you something."

"You already have, Jack."

"No, something... unrelated," he said, waving his hand a little as he finally managed to look away from Pitch. The movement seemed not to go unnoticed, as Pitch stopped his circling to focus on him. "So, as the King of Nightmares, you know what scares people. Right?"

"I've told you that, Jack."

"Right. So you can see into people's nightmares."

"It wouldn't do much good if I couldn't," Pitch said, clearly beginning to lose what little patience he possessed with this conversation.

Holding one hand up, Jack preempted him a bit. "Calm down. So if you can see people's nightmares, then you can see their dreams, right?"

"Nightmares and dreams are basically the same thing." Jack rolled his eyes at Pitch's tone, which was one that a person would use when talking to a particularly slow small child. "They simply evoke different reactions."

"Can you see dreams that people have already had?"

"To a degree, yes."

"Then you should know why I'm here, Pitch."

"Jack, just get to the-..." Slowly trailing off, Pitch raised one eyebrow at Jack. His expression gradually changed into one of suspicion, then surprise, then something a bit more malicious that Jack didn't particularly want to name. His own gaze dropped quickly to the floor before back up, focusing somewhere in the vicinity of Pitch's collar bone to keep from actually having to look him in the eye. The next words that left the Nightmare King's lips sent too many emotions to name coursing through him.

"Are you quite serious, Jack Frost...?"

* * *

And we'll finally get to what is technically known in slash fiction as The Interesting Part next chapter. Again, I'm sorry this one took so long, and I hope no one gave up on it. Chapter Four will not take so long to be released, I promise! Keep up with those reviews, I love reading them and I actually do get ideas from them (like I did with this chapter, thank you very much BoredomIsAnUnderstatement, that hadn't even occurred to me until you said it and I stared at that review for a moment before shouting "BRILLIANT!" like an 1800's inventor).


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